


A Pearl

by hornchop



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Dry Humping, Established Relationship, Gentle Dom Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall, Post-Season/Series 03, Praise Kink, Slight Shoe Kink? For Two Seconds, Sub Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 23:25:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17928359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hornchop/pseuds/hornchop
Summary: “Well,” he drawls. “Not much you can do from over there.”There is no graceful way to crawl across the floor, especially with your cock out, but watching Hannibal Lecter crawl on his knees to seat himself in front of Will sends off a hot spark of arousal in his gut.





	A Pearl

**Author's Note:**

> i'm eating bread

“Let me.” Hannibal says, palming him.

 

Will licks his lips, watches Hannibal watch him. He nods.

 

Hannibal sinks slowly to his knees, trailing kisses along the way. He untucks Will's shirt, gently digs his nails into the small of his back.

 

Hannibal holds his hips as he kisses him through his pants, mouths at his covered cock. Will cards his fingers through his hair and watches as Hannibal brings one hand down from his waist to touch himself, to rub his palm up and down where he too, is still covered.

 

And all Will wants to do is  _ see _ .

 

He uses his foot to press Hannibal's legs wider, his strong thighs spread open as far as they'll go in his suit pants. Hannibal stills at his touch, rests his forehead against his hip.

 

Interesting.

 

Will runs his shoe on the inside of his thigh and he doesn't miss the way Hannibal rubs harder at himself.

 

“Hannibal,” he says. “Look at me.”

 

He does. His eyes are dark and fathomless, bright and full of hunger. Something wordless passes between them.

 

Will shifts away from Hannibal's touch so he can get better leverage to run his shoe slowly, tentatively, over Hannibal's cock. He doesn't break eye contact as he does so, both challenging and asking,  _ is this okay? _

 

Hannibal exhales through his nose loudly. He sits on his knees and looks up at Will like he is something other. Like Will is something powerful. He looks at Will like he would lay the world to ruin and present it at his feet.

 

Will runs his foot up and down his dick. Presses down hard, once, and feels thrill shoot up his spine as Hannibal's expression darkens.

 

Will's never brought degradation into the bedroom, neither has he ever really wrought to hold control over his partners. But there is something so unbelievably hot in having Hannibal Lecter, of all people, on his knees, hard and wanting underneath his shoe. To have him grinding into what little Will gives him. 

 

Will nudges his foot further down the crease of Hannibal's thighs. He presses the tip of his toe in a little harder.

 

“Take yourself out.” Will says.

 

Hannibal does. He unzips his pants and pulls his silk trouser underneath his balls. He takes himself in hand, giving two quick strokes before Will kicks his hand away gently. “Uh uh,” he chides. “Hands on your legs.”

 

Hannibal obeys.

 

“Good boy.” Will says, testing. Hannibal shifts his legs open wider in response, gives him a slow blink.

 

Will runs his shoe up the shaft, imagines that he can feel his heat through the polished leather.  Hannibal is breathing heavily through his mouth and his cheeks are flushed down to his neck.

 

“Can you come, just like this? Without me touching you?” Will murmurs as he presses his cock into his stomach. He swirls his foot where he's pressing down to create friction. Hannibal makes a small noise in the back of his throat.

 

“It is not impossible.” He says after a moment, voice thick.

 

“Good,” Will says. “Cause this is all you're getting.”

 

He backs up to sit himself on the couch and Hannibal watches, exposed, hard, heavy, and wanting. Will can smell him from here, his sweat and need.

 

“Well,” he drawls. “Not much you can do from over there.”

 

There is no graceful way to crawl across the floor, especially with your cock out, but watching  _ Hannibal Lecter _ crawl on his knees to seat himself in front of Will sends off a hot spark of arousal in his gut.

 

Hannibal's legs cage one of his own so Will presses his shin into his groin. He's practically sitting on his foot, cock pressing into his leg. He curls his hand around Hannibal's ear and guides his head to rest on his knee.

 

“Take what you want.” Will says, quietly. He leans over so his mouth is closer to his ear. “Take what you need from me.” He runs his fingers through his hair, careful not to be to rough.

 

Hannibal shudders and begins to rock into Will's leg.

 

He feels powerful, Will realizes. He cups his own cock through his pants, gives himself a quick squeeze. Powerful to have Hannibal Lecter, a man who fears no God, hiding from  _ him  _ and fucking into his leg with soft moans.

 

Will watches the helpless flex of his hands on the couch, how he digs his fingernails into the fabric as he grinds into him. He's overcome with lust, lost to debauchery.

 

He takes the gentle hand in Hannibal's hair and pulls harder, enough to lift Hannibal's face so he can  _ see _ .

 

His mouth is slack, his cheeks red and his eyes glazed. There's a sheen of sweat over him and it causes a few stray bangs to stick to his forehead.  Will runs his thumb over his bottom lip and flexes his hips when Hannibal's tongue flashes out to taste him.

 

“All that control,” Will murmurs. “You may follow the whims of change, but you hold control over yourself like a leash. Doesn't it feel good?” Hannibal grinds faster, presses himself closer and more insistently. His eyes stay on Will's mouth. “To let go? To give yourself to me?”

 

Hannibal ducks his head to rest it on his thigh. He clutches the cushions tighter as his thrusts become more and more desperate. Will can feel his hot breath gust over his inner thigh.

 

Still testing the lines of control, he pulls Hannibal backup to eye level by his hair again. He locks with Hannibal's heavy lidded gaze, stares back into those eyes that hold terrible, terrible longing. He looks nearly feral.

 

“You want to be good for me, don't you?” Will presses his leg into Hannibal to give him more pressure. He leans forward to press a gentle kiss to his sweaty forehead. “Want to show me how good you can be for me?”

 

Hannibal grunts, loudly. He finally releases his hold on the couch to cling to Will, one on his leg and the other on his hip. He does nothing to smother the desperate and undignified sounds that spill from his mouth as he fucks in earnest. In true  _ desperation _ .

 

It doesn't take long. Hannibal's hips stutter up into his leg as he comes. His eyes are shut tight, mouth open and neck exposed as he throws his head back. If it weren't for the wetness he can feel on his leg, Will might think he was in indescribable pain, but it's true pleasure and ecstasy that has him rutting frantically into his shin before he slows to slow grind, then stops.

 

Hannibal slumps forward, hiding his face into Will's inner thigh as he gasps and shivers. Will pulls him on the couch, situates them so Hannibal's on his back and Will can lay halfway on his chest. Hannibal's hands clutch at the back of his shirt and Will brings up his hand so he can stroke the underside of his jaw with his thumb. His pant leg is uncomfortably wet and they're making a mess of the couch and Hannibal's pants that are still pulled down his thighs.

 

Will kisses his chest, waiting for Hannibal to speak. They'll have to talk about it. They've never been too good on setting and keeping boundaries, but Will knows Hannibal will  _ want  _ to talk about it.

 

But.

 

Minutes pass and Hannibal still holds onto his silence, still gathering himself back together. Will tries to shift so he can look up at his face, but Hannibal holds him tighter to keep him place. Will settles back down. It never takes him this long after sex to say something. He does, of course, love the sound of his own voice.

 

Maybe the normal thing to do would be to worry, to worry that maybe he's gone too far, or that maybe Hannibal might close himself off.

 

But all Will feels is satisfaction, just a little smug that he's found another way to rip away whatever it is Hannibal likes to hide himself behind. 

 

Who knew that it took only dirty talk and insistent hands to finally shut Hannibal up? Maybe it isn't that, Will thinks. Maybe it has nothing to do with the treatment and act. Maybe it has nothing to do with that and everything to do with  _ Will. _

 

He's still hard, pressing into his hip, but he's not focused on that. He's focused on the frantic beats of Hannibal's heart, on the silence that only breaks with their breathing. Will skims his hand down his body to gently cup Hannibal, spent and soft. He shifts, oversensitive and no doubt sore from rubbing up against fabric. Will gives him a squeeze and keeps his hand there, holding him gently. He noses under Hannibal's jaw and hums.

 

“Good boy.” Will says, and he feels Hannibal swallow.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm still eatin my bread. thank u for reading horndogs


End file.
